


Asleep with the fishes

by Captain_Mercurian



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid Fusion, Armitage Hux is So Done, Attempt at Humor, Bickering, Don't leave gingers in the sun, Don't let Hux teach you Human, Kylo being an overgrown baby, Kylo is technically American if the Pacific Ocean counts as American lol, M/M, Phasma is a good friend, Romance, Someone help Armitage Hux, The merman au nobody asked for, Very British Hux, businessman!Hux, he's shit at it, just with a tail instead of a bucket, merman!kylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:42:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Mercurian/pseuds/Captain_Mercurian
Summary: Having put enough distance between himself and the water to not risk being pulled back under, he felt safe enough to finally turn around and look at the thing that kidnapped him.Hux didn't know what he had expected to see.Certainly not a naked, 6' 3" beast of a man wading unto the shore like David Hasselhoff minus the red swim trunks.Or: Hux finds a merman on a business trip in San Diego. And. He. Just. Won't. Leave.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 33
Kudos: 278





	1. Baby, hold your breath

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was inspired by the soft merman AU vid on youtube. If you don't know it, I recommend you watch it, it's so cute, it gave me diabetes! However, I turned the tables 'cause even though Hux definitely has the hair colour for a pretty convincing Arielle, I think Kylo is the better fit when it comes to portraying a mystical creature and sea prince.

„What's with the face, Hux? Even a sad stuck up like you must feel at least a trickle of joy on a sunny day, walking along a beautiful beach!”

He hadn't thought that he could hate Poe Dameron any more than he already did but there the prick was, proving him wrong again and again. In fact, he was pretty sure that he had insisted on this trip for the sole purpose of making Hux mad enough to finally strangle the man.

As it was, he refused to be riled up by an imbecile like him and kept his face as calm and collected as humanly possible while squinting to protect his eyes from the sun. Sadly, it was impossible to look dignified in sandals, shorts and a short-sleeved shirt; not to mention the ridiculous sunhat that Phasma made him wear as well as the three thick coats of sunscreen he had lathered on before leaving his hotel room.

“At the terrible risk of stating the obvious,” he started, keeping any emotion out of his voice, “I'm ginger. I don't have the melanin necessary to endure any exposure to the Californian sun in august without essentially begging for a sunburn and eventually skin cancer.”

If Poe rolled his eyes any harder, they might accidentally fall into the vast void inside his thick, ugly skull. Hux hoped so.

“Mr Hux,” he said instead with an exaggerated sigh and then fixed his eyes (Didn't he have any luck?) on him, amusement glittering in them. “Always so serious.”

With a hard shove, Poe added a smug “Loosen up!” before taking his shirt off, exposing his stupidly tan upper body, and throwing himself into the blue water of the Pacific Beach.

He had half a mind of going after him to drown the prick when he felt Phasma's hand on his shoulder, shaking her head as if she had read his thoughts.

“We need this deal,” she reminded him for the fourth time ever since they left the airport and saw Poe bloody Dameron standing at the terminal, waiting for them with a grin and a sign that read “General Ginger & Captain Cyclone” as he winked at them. He had wanted to turn around and demand to fly back to London that very instant if Phasma hadn't half-led, half-dragged him towards his personal hell.

“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job...” he muttered like a mantra when Poe indicated that he should join him in the water. Hux really, really didn't want to. Sure, he was an okay enough swimmer to not drown but he _will_ suffer from a terrible sunburn 3 minutes in, he was sure of it.

Who in the hell decided that Poe Dameron should be trusted with any business deals, he would never know, especially not in an enterprise as successful as  _The Resistence_ .

He himself had been chosen by the director of  _The First Order Ltd._ personally. His father's influence may have played a part in his promotion but everyone knew that Snoke only hired the most competent and ambitious of- 

“Get in the water, General Ginger!” 

How long could he survive from his savings if he killed Dameron right now and fled to Mexico? San Diego was right at the border, he could make it. But that wouldn't solve the sun problem, in fact, it might make it even worse.

“I love my job,” he said out loud with as much conviction as he could muster, earning him a worried look from Phasma and a “What was that?” from the buffoon waiting for him in the water.

Slowly, like a man about to be hanged, he took off his hat and stripped down to his black bathing trunks. He immediately felt the heat from the sun sizzling on his back and he was sure that some bystanders had to avert their gaze at how intensely the sun reflected off his extremely pale skin. He would very soon look like a lobster and at the thought, he imagined Gordon Ramsay taking a bite and shouting something like “It's cooked to absolute shite, you donkey!” at Poe Dameron clad in kitchen attire.

The thought didn't placate him completely, but it did soothe enough of his anger to make him actually approach the water. 

Then he stopped.

“Are you coming, too?” he asked, looking at Phasma, who was already lying in the shadow of a huge sun brolly, book in hand and sunglasses pushed far back into her light hair.

“I'm just as pale as you,” she said, turning a page languidly, not even looking at him. “And Dameron only asked for _your_ company.”  
  
Hux felt betrayed.

“But-”  
  
“It's not my pigtails he's pulling, so no, I'm going to stay right here. Enjoy your dick-measuring-contest or fucked up wooing ritual, I can't tell which it is yet.”

His face turned even paler and somewhat green at the mere insinuation of- of- 

“General Ginger!” Poe shouted and he could see an entire family turning their heads in his direction, snickering at the stupid name.

Maybe he should dye his hair again. He had tried to pass for brunet back in secondary school but his classmates obliviously already knew that he wasn't, so they had taken a break from the ginger jokes, only to replace them with homophobic slurs. 

Scratch the dye.

The second he joined Dameron in the water, he grinned and said something along the lines of “Let's swim as far as we can!”

Dick-measuring contest it was, then.

Usually, Hux wasn't stupid enough to fall for childish challenges like that, but his father would have his head if he displeased Dameron and therefore fucked up the business deal, he was supposed to ensure.

So, he swam.

Hux was in no way out of shape but there was no way that he could ever truly compete with someone who was as athletic and used to the ocean as Dameron. After all, he only ever swam in the still waters of a swimming pool and he much preferred running for his workouts in any case.

His arms got tired after a while and he had to admit to feeling a little frightened when he noticed that there were barely any people left out there. Dameron was somewhere in front of him, or at least he thought that he was, since his eyes and throat were burning from the saltwater and he couldn't properly see after a while.

A wave crashed over him and for a second, his body felt so weak that he feared, he would drown.

Fuck this shit, he was turning back now. He should have given up a long time ago but his need to surpass people's expectations (since he was sure that Poe had pegged him for weak-willed, just like his father) had clouded his judgment.

Hux did turn back – But the next wave was so strong, it almost felt like someone dunked him with full force and he struggled to get back to the surface. His muscles were burning and hurting and he accidentally breathed in water, getting it in his lungs and in his eyes. 

Panic settled in the pit of his stomach and his blood was rushing through his veins as he realized that he was uselessly flapping his arms in the water and barely managed to take a breath once he broke through the surface before being pulled under by the next violent wave.

If that was how he was going to die, he was thoroughly disappointed.

He hoped that Mitaka would continue to take care of Millicent once the news of his death broke back in London. Or maybe Phasma would take her. It was usually her he dropped Millicent off to when going abroad but he had asked her to accompany him to this one to keep his temper in check around Dameron.

Bloody Dameron.

He hoped that his death would weigh on the pricks conscience until his very last breath.

Hux could feel his movement's slow down as the lack of oxygen made him weak and drowsy and, in a way, he didn't mind.

Now, with death knocking at his door, he wondered at how easily he had accepted his imminent demise. Of course, he knew why that was.

There wasn't anything to fight for. No one to even care whether he drowned or not.

Still, he had thought his survival instincts would be stronger than that. Maybe his father was right and he was indeed weak-willed.  _Thin like a slip of paper and just as useless_ .

He kept his eyes closed as he sank.

Until he didn't. 

They snapped open, the second he felt arms encircling him, pulling him up, up, up-

When they reached the surface, he took in a violent gasp of air, filling his aching lungs with sweet oxygen before the next wave would inevitably prevent him from taking another breath. His hands clung to a strong, thick arm and he wanted to turn around to look at his savior, but found that he couldn't as he was once again engulfed in water. Alternating between coughing and gasping, he decided to stop kicking his legs or trying to turn his head since he probably only made it harder for the man – who hopefully  _wasn't_ Dameron – to save his useless arse.

Looking down, he saw a pale, muscled arm, littered with the occasional mole and- 

Panic washed over him as he also  _felt_ it.

There was a tail. In the water. A fucking  _tail_ .  
No, no, no, that wasn't possible. Surely, he had succumbed to the waves and already drowned, because there was no way that there was a red, long, slimy fish tail brushing his legs.

He started kicking again, scratched at the arm and felt his heart almost freeze inside his chest as whatever was kidnapping (not saving, impossible!) him  _growled_ into his neck.

Okay. He got the message. And immediately stopped thrashing about. Frozen, frightened and absolutely helpless, he let the... merman – Even the word alone made him question his sanity – drag him to wherever. Probably a cave since he was apparently disinterested in drowning Hux just yet. Did mermen eat humans? Was he about to be devoured by a monster that should have only existed in children's books or Disney's fucking  _Arielle_ ?

Drowning sounded a lot better now.

It felt like hours until they reached land. The second he could feel the creature struggling to keep swimming due to its slimy tail slapping against the sand right underneath them, he flapped and kicked with all his might and half-stumbled, half-ran through the last bit of water unto the shore. Never had dry sand sticking to his feet felt this good.

Having put enough distance between himself and the water to not risk being pulled back under, he felt safe enough to finally turn around and look at the thing that kidnapped him.

Hux didn't know what he had expected to see.

Certainly not a naked, 6' 3" beast of a man wading unto the shore like David Hasselhoff minus the red swim trunks. 

Their eyes met and it felt like time stood still – Completely paralysed, he couldn't do more than stare as he was approached after a second of what seemed like hesitation from the maybe-merman. His eyes seemed black from the distance, just like the wet tresses sticking to his ivory, glistening skin. Hux's instincts told him to run, to move, to get away from who- or whatever that was. But he couldn't. It was physically impossible to move even a single inch from where he was standing, staring at the man that was approaching him. There were a few red scales left on his shins but they quickly flattened to his skin and seemed to just  _disappear_ . So, he hadn't dreamed the tail up.

As curious as he was terrified, he let his gaze wander upwards, tried to only briefly glance at what looked like a monster of a prick, over the most impressive six-pack he had ever seen, followed by an equally impressive and very broad chest to the weirdest fucking face ever.

That's when he realised that the guy had come to a halt and that he was standing uncomfortably close.

Hux wasn't short by any means and he knew, rationally, that he wasn't much shorter than this man, but he felt him looming as if he was at least an entire foot taller.

Those dark eyes were still staring at him and now he could see a slim ring of chocolate brown around each dilated pupil. His lashes were long and wet and they seemed heavy, enough so to explain the heavy-lidded look he was being given.

The guy leaned down, just the tiniest bit, almost touching Hux's nose with his own long and slightly crooked one.  
He finally snapped out of whatever trance he had been in.

Recoiling violently, he almost lost footing when he brought some much-appreciated distance between himself and the naked weirdo that was still staring at him, completely expressionless.

“Who are you!” he blurted out, shouting more than he was actually asking. “No, scratch that. _What_ are you? You- there were scales on your-” He pointed at his legs and the guy looked down as if he had to check if there were indeed scales on them – which there weren't, obviously, since they had _disappeared_ like some fucked up magic trick – before frowning at Hux. “Okay, fuck it, I'm just gonna say it- Are you-” He paused, wiping his face almost violently with both hands, simultaneously exasperated and feeling like he has gone bloody nuts. “You're a merman.”  


The frown disappeared, his lids looked even heavier and Hux could practically hear the  _Duh_ even though not a single sound left that ridiculously pouty mouth.

“You are,” he concluded, his voice pitched high, almost hysterical. “You _are_ \- No, no, I- I fucking drowned, or hit my head, or fell asleep on the plane, there is no way this is- What are you doing?”

With a curious tilt to his head, the merman was approaching him once again and Hux only made two half-hearted steps back, feeling his heartbeat hard and fast in his chest as a pale, big hand reached for his face. Rationally, he knew that he should run but the suicidal part of him wanted to see where this was going. Also, he was only a man and it was very hard to force himself to put distance between himself and a naked, shredded hunk with a bloody  _monster_ hanging between his legs.

Fuck, Hux needed to get laid. Preferably with someone who was neither half-fish, nor  _Poe fucking Dameron_ .

Fingertips touched his temple – Softly, almost as if he was shy. Somehow, he had expected his skin to feel slimy, but instead, it felt smooth and warm as the fingers glided down, over his cheekbone, to his jaw. His thumb met Hux's chin and the hand stilled, not quite holding his face but it felt just as intimate.

He had goosebumps, his heart did a funny thing and he wasn't sure if he was even breathing.

That weird face got closer but not as close as before. Hux didn't know what to do.

“What- what's your name?”

The merman blinked. And then he  _smiled_ . Well, not really, but the corners of his mouth lifted just the tiniest bit. It looked almost smug. 

Hux frowned.

Then those red, full lips opened just the tiniest bit... and the most terrifying fucking sound, he had ever heard, left them.

When Hux recoiled this time, he actually  _fell_ , covering his ears with both hands even though the sound was already gone and the damage was done. He felt his ears  _ringing._

The merman looked surprised, hand still hovering where Hux's face had been just a moment ago before his expression shifted to something regretful, ashamed and confused. He touched his neck as if he was checking whether or not something was broken and closed his mouth so hard, it looked like a thin line. The weird slope of his jaw looked even weirder like that.

“Was that your _voice_?” he shouted over the ringing in his own ears as he struggled to get back up, horrified and yet strangely fascinated at the same time. The merman looked sheepish, brows pinched in something that could be frustration, fingers still gripping his neck. “Was... was that some kind of fish language?”

It hadn't sounded too different from a whale's cry, just infinitely more scary.

At that, there was something like amusement glittering in those dark eyes. 

It reminded him of how Poe Dameron looked at him when he made Hux slip up and call him a  _wanker_ , or how Phasma looked at him when she listened to him complain about how everyone in  _First Order Ltd_ . seemed to be fucking braindead except her and Mitaka and occasionally that girl with the weird name. Rey Something. Who cares.

And that reminded him that both Poe and Phasma had no idea where he was. 

Which made him notice that they had been  _alone_ this entire time.

“Where are we?” he asked, even though the guy obviously couldn't answer, and started to look for the beach he had started from. He could vaguely recognize it but it was far, _far_ away. Hux couldn't have possibly swum even half the distance – Which meant that the merman had brought him to this... lagoon or something on purpose.

Maybe he did it to not be seen by anybody. But then again, he had let Hux see him. He was still letting Hux see him. 

“I have to get back,” he said and was startled when the merman grabbed his arm, _hard_ , and stared at him - pleading, angry, confused and sad all at once.

Hux had never seen anyone express so many emotions by just  _looking_ at him. It was almost dizzying, being the recipient of such an intense gaze and it distracted him until the fingers, that were still wrapped around his arm,  _squeezed,_ making him yelp in pain.

The merman let go of him as if he had burnt himself.

“Jesus, fuck! That hurt, you dimwitted brute!” he shouted, cradling his quickly bruising arm with loose fingers and shooting daggers at the oaf with his eyes.

The arsehole had the audacity to look  _offended_ .

“Sod off, will you?!” 

Hux didn't actually expect the merman to turn around, huge dick swinging dramatically from the motion, and stomp back into the water. Red scales pierced the ivory skin of his legs and when he leaped into the water, Hux could only catch a glimpse of his tail before he was gone.

He fucking  _left him here_ .

Hux still didn't know where he was, he had no phone or money or even actual clothes and he didn't know what time it was.

Fucking great.


	2. A wreck buried deep in the sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux was never good at leaving well enough alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell in love with this stupid thing, so here is a second part! As it is, I might turn this into an actual multi-chapter fic. I've already got a lot of silly things in mind for this clusterfuck of a fic!

Hux refused to leave his hotel room. And for once, neither Poe Dameron nor Phasma bothered him about it, not after seeing what he looked like when he had found his way back to the hotel just before sunset.

Comparing him to a lobster would be _kind_.

So, he stayed inside, slathering on layers and layers of aloe vera gel and tried to move as little as possible since every kind of pressure _hurt_. The first day, he had even been sick from the extreme sun exposure and he would forever hate himself for letting Phasma see him with his head hanging in the bloody toilet.

Pathetic.

It had been hard to explain what happened to him without sounding like he's gone nuts. He wasn't sure of what had happened himself. After all, a merman couldn't exist and carry him to some desolated lagoon. The sun had probably fried his brain at some point and distorted the truth enough to make him fake-remember a red, scaly tail, along with the naked weirdo with the frightening voice.

He had probably been saved by some tall guy in a red boat and the sound he remembered was the sound of the motor malfunctioning for a second. That had to be it. There was no other reasonable interpretation of his faulty memories. And that was the story he was going to stick to when pressed.

Hux groaned when he noticed that he had run out of aloe vera gel. Fucking great.

He wrote Phasma a short message on his phone, asking her to purchase one or two bottles for him on her way back from the meeting. The meeting that he should have been present for but there was no way that he was letting any of his business partners see him like that. He didn't know what would make his father angrier – Dumping his responsibilities on another person, even one as competent as Phasma, or embarrassing himself and by extension his entire family as well as the company by trying to negotiate a deal while looking like bloody _Mr Crabs_.

It has been five days and he wasn't bright red anymore but his skin still looked very unnaturally pink and it was also peeling off of him like crazy. This entire trip had been a disaster so far. The only good thing that had come of it, was that Dameron felt bad enough to finally leave him alone. The one time that he called to inquire about his wellbeing, he had even called him Hux instead of _General Ginger_ , _Mr Frecklebutt_ or any of the other demeaning nicknames, he usually used to rile him up with.

Drinking the tenth huge glass of water ever since he woke up that morning, he stared out of the hotel window at the beautiful blue ocean. The beach was packed at this hour, he could see that even from this distance, and he wondered whether someone else was going to be saved from drowning by a naked fishman today.

No, no, no. There was no merman. It was a tall guy in a boat. A tall, normal, two-legged and reasonably clothed guy in a boat.

Frowning, Hux sank deeper into the soft, satin-covered mattress. Dark, deep eyes stared back at him from inside his mind, black wet hair sticking to pale, smooth skin and then there were fingers – impossibly long ones, tenderly touching Hux's face. It had felt so real. From the man's lashes to the way he had smelt of algae, fish, and something different, something unidentifiable, to the bloody monster cock, he had desperately tried not to stare at.

How could he come up with any of that himself? Especially that weird face – That weird slope of his jaw, those weird pouty lips, that weird long nose that wasn't overly crooked but also not straight by a long shot and just- Just the eyes. The _eyes_.

Hux was going insane.

By the time the sun had set, Hux still couldn't bring himself to think about anything else. He had tried to get some work done but it was impossible to focus and that was a feeling he was neither overly familiar nor comfortable with.

If anyone asked what drove him to leave the hotel and make his way to the beach, he wouldn't know what to tell them.

It was the first time in what seemed like forever that he had fully clothed himself and even though the fabrics felt extremely uncomfortable on his tender, pink skin, it made him feel a little less like a madman. There weren't many people around – it was almost 2 am on a Tuesday, after all – but the ones that were were throwing him uncomfortable glances. Hux was aware that he must look ridiculous wearing sunglasses, bathing trunks, a sun hat and the hideous oversized Hawaii shirt that Phasma had borrowed him for the softness of the fabric.

When he reached the beach, he didn't know what to do next.

As predicted, there was hardly a soul out here at this hour and Hux decided that a walk along the beach wouldn't hurt. If he hoped for a naked weirdo to turn up, it was purely because he wanted to make sure that his memory was as impeccable as it had always been. He had never hallucinated or blacked out in his entire life, not even when he drank himself half to death – His pride refused to believe that this had changed.

He didn't know how much time had come to pass when he saw something in the water. Coming to a halt immediately, he took off the useless sunglasses, squinting in the dark to try and make out whatever it was that lurked out there.

And then it came closer.

When he spotted a pale face with black hair, he felt relieved, exhilarated and frightened at the same time. So he hadn't been imaging things. Unless he was hallucinating this very second but he didn't think he was.

A wave pushed the huge, white body closer to the shore and Hux stared in fascination as the water drew back, revealing glistening scales on a ridiculously long tail that seemed almost black in the darkness. Hux remembered its colour though – Red, like a ruby, like blood, like-

The tail parted, scales flattening against ivory skin and then disappearing just like that, revealing long, smooth-looking legs.

Standing up, the man caught his gaze. To his surprise he looked just like Hux was feeling: Insecure, elated and like he couldn't believe that Hux was here. As if he had waited for him to show up. Which was nonsense, surely. There was no way.

Feeling ridiculous in his attire, he took off his sunhat, catching the amused glint in those dark eyes. Great, even a _half-fish_ was judging his outfit.

“So... I wasn't hallucinating,” was how he decided to start this one-sided conversation. The man shook his head, wet, black hair swaying with the motion. He wondered what it looked like dry. “Great. That's... great.”

This was even more awkward than he thought it would be. And fish-guy wasn't making it any easier by just standing there, buck naked, staring at him with wide eyes. It was hard to say whether that look was expectant or dreading.

Nodding curtly, he decided: “I'll get out of your hair, then.”

He swiftly turned around to make his way back to his hotel, satisfied with having confirmed that he was as sane as ever. However, he didn't make it far before a large hand grasped his upper arm, swiveling him back around with so much force, he stumbled and cried out in pain. Fish-guy flinched at the sound and loosened his grip enough to not hurt, but held on tight enough to make it impossible to leave.

“Bloody hell, do you _have_ to leave bruises every time we meet, you brute?” he shouted, angry and not angry at the same time. A very small part of him had hoped for the man to prevent him from leaving, though, he _would_ have preferred a less painful way to achieve that. “You could have just asked, you know!”

Except that he couldn't have because he apparently couldn't talk. That was beside the point, though.

Fish-guy looked rueful and frustrated and when his gaze dropped to Hux's other arm, his face fell even more. He didn't have to check what he was looking at since he _knew_ that there were finger-shaped bruises, already greenish-yellow but visible even with his sunburnt skin. A heavy sigh fell from Hux's lips and he tried to relax, hoping that the tight grip on his arm would loosen at that.

It didn't.

“Listen, I-” Licking his lips, he stared at a mole right next to that long nose, unable to look him in the eye for the moment. “Thanks are in order. For the other day. I- Well, I would have died out there. If it hadn't been for you.”

The grip finally loosened a little bit.

When their eyes met again, he was almost overwhelmed with the intensity which he was being gazed upon. Those full, red lips parted as if preparing to say something, but he must have remembered how fantastic last time had gone since he quickly shut his mouth again. And then, he felt it. Like a pressure in his head, there was- _something_. Something strange, something foreign and Hux shook his head as if that could make this weird sensation inside his skull go away.

_You're welcome_

He froze, startled, his heart pounding hard and fast against his chest.

That- Was that a voice? It hadn't felt like one, not really, it hadn't even felt like actual words. Yet, he knew what was being... projected?

“Were you-” he started but felt his voice break, blood still rushing in his ears. “Were you in my _head_ just now?”

A shrug, eyes cast somewhere next to his face. If Hux didn't know any better, he would say that the guy looked like he was _afraid_. Of him? Ridiculous. It was pretty obvious by now that only one person was in power here and it certainly wasn't himself.

“You can let go, you know. I'm not going to run. And even if I did, something tells me, you'd have no problem catching up.”

Uncertainty crossed his face again but he eventually _did_ let go of Hux's arm. He could feel his flesh pulsate on that very spot but there wasn't much to do about it. Like promised, he stayed right where he was, frowning at this huge, powerful creature before him, as it seemed to study his face in turn.

“Are you always this naked?” he eventually asked, both out of curiosity and as an attempt to lighten the mood because the tension between them was making him a bit dizzy.  
Again, when he felt that pressure in his head, there were no actual words, no voice, but he just _knew_ that he was being told that, _yes_ , he was always naked. There was no need for clothes where he came from.

“So, you're not usually up here,” Hux concluded and the man tilted his head just the tiniest bit. “On land I mean.”

He shook his head, sending a few droplets of water flying from the tips of his dark hair. It seemed oddly graceful despite being such an ordinary motion. The whole man seemed oddly graceful despite being so bloody tall and broad-shouldered and muscled and having such a _weird_ face. Though, the longer he looked at it, the more he thought that his odd features actually worked pretty well, combined like that. And there was something delicate about the beauty marks and the moles littered all over his skin, the length of his lashes, the fullness of his lips and how his hair seemed to be curling a little bit, now that it seemed to be drying slowly.

Hux wondered whether his hair was soft or coarse from the saltwater.

He really needed to get laid.

“Did you- I mean, are you here because you were hoping to see me again?” he asked, realising that the question was loaded and he probably should have waited a bit before blurting _that_ out. Fish-guy cringed a little bit, almost ashamed and he just stared at Hux, pressing his lips into a thin line. There was no pressure inside his skull and he was neither nodding nor shaking his head, but the silence was answer enough. To be honest, he didn't know how to feel about that, but the almost terrified expression on that pale face did soften something inside his chest.

“No need to look at me like that,” he murmured, tipping his head back a bit and staring at the night sky, brows furrowed. “I'm here, too, am I not?”

A wave of confusion engulfed his mind – a confusion that was not his own – and then something that felt like elation. When he looked back at the man's face, he wasn't exactly smiling but he did look... happy?

Suddenly nervous and a little panicky, he quickly added: “Well, it's good to know that I haven't gone mad yet.”

His expression shifted once again as those dark brows drew together and the muscles around his lips tensed, just like his neck and shoulders as he was standing a little straighter. Tipping forward just a little bit, he once again loomed over him. Hux blinked. And then the corners of his mouth curled up, half-amused, half-unbelieving.

“Are you _pouting_?”

Oh, he _totally_ was. The question seemed to make him pout even harder and Hux couldn't help but huff at how much the guy looked like an overgrown baby when doing that.

This, however, seemed to make the guy angry. Not good. Hux wasn't keen on drowning _again_.

“Can you project your name to me?” he asked, throwing fishguy off on purpose and looking at him with genuine curiosity. “I'm getting kinda tired of calling you _fishguy_ and _merman_ inside my head. It just sounds silly and impersonal.”

The anger evaporated and he stared at Hux with so much focus and intensity that it made him a bit uncomfortable. Strange was the presence in his head and it was trying to tell him something – Hux _felt_ that the man was trying to tell him his name, he could _feel_ the name but it's sound eluded him. When the pressure was gone, he was none the wiser.

“I now know how your name feels, but I have no idea what it actually is,” he answered when the merman looked at him questioningly and a little hopeful. An idea struck him and he felt dumb for not having thought of it before. “You could write it in the sand?”

Hux wasn't sure how he expected him to react to that suggestion, but it certainly wasn't a frustrated growl and kick into the sand.

“What the hell? The fuck are you mad for?”

The dark eyes stared at him as if Hux was an idiot and he couldn't quite believe that he didn't know what was going on.

Realisation dawned on him.

“You... can't write?”

The brows furrowed and there was that offended pout again. With a muffled thump, he fell to his knees and started to write in the sand with his finger. Hux moved to stand beside him, staring at... seemingly random lines and curls. Oh. He got the problem now.

“I see,” he said, disappointed at first... and then confused. “Wait a minute. If you can neither talk nor write in my language, how are you even understanding what I'm saying?”

The pressure in his head returned.

“You learned by listening to the people on the beach?” It made sense in a way but then it kinda didn't. “How come you can't talk then?”  
  
_Never tried_

“Oh. Okay. So, mermen communicate with those terrible sounds you made last time?”  
  
For a second he was worried that he had offended him again, but luckily, he barely reacted. He simply shook his head.

_We talk to each other like this_

“Just through your thoughts,” he said with something like awe. “What's the scream for then? Not much reason for you to be biologically able to make sounds if you communicate telepathically.”

_To scare away dangers_

“It did sound terrifying enough,” he reasoned and watched fishguy get back on his feet. As interesting as all that information was when he noticed dawn starting to break, he suddenly felt extremely tired.

Stifling a yawn, he put his hat back on.

“I really need to go now,” he said, hoping that the merman wouldn't feel the need to grab either or both of his arm to squeeze him like a lemon again. “You probably have to go, too. It won't be long until the tourists will show up.”

Fishguy didn't reach for him, but his face looked _crestfallen_.

Hux didn't know how to handle that.

“So,” he said, more cheery and confident than he felt. “It was a pleasure to have met you. Maybe we'll see each other again.”

No reaction.

Alright, then.

Turning away from the merman, he was starting to walk back to the underground station that would bring him to the vicinity of his hotel. After about five steps, he stopped. And turned around.

Fishguy was standing behind him, clearly closer than he was before, looking sheepish.

“Oh no,” he said, raising his hand, flat palm hovering somewhere above that chiselled chest. “No, no, no. You're staying. Right here.”

Pointing his finger towards the ground, like one would with a dog probably, he fixed him with _the_ stare that made his entire compartment nervous and afraid.

The merman blinked.

Turning around once again, he only had to take two steps this time around to notice that he was still following him.

“What, don't you have your own home to get back to?” he hissed, impatient and far too tired to deal with anymore bullshite, as he swivelled back around to-

Jesus bloody Christ.

That face. He looked like a kicked puppy – with Hux being the one who kicked him. Lord give him strength.

“Don't tell me you literally don't have one,” he pleaded, already feeling a bit bad for his outburst. There was a feeling of loss inside his head, of dread, of anger, of loneliness. Hux was very familiar with all of these emotions.

“Alright, alright, you absolute fucking pain in the arse, I'll let you stay _one_ night. _One_. Do you understand?”  
  
_Relief, excitement, thankfulness._

Hux felt uncomfortable.

“But you can't walk around like this, you'll get arrested for indecency,” he sighed, cursing at himself for only wearing bathing trunks without any underwear and no shorts on top. There was only one piece of clothing, fishguy could have and Hux already hated himself for relenting. He unbottened the ugly Hawaii shirt, ignoring how dark eyes were watching him intently as he did so, and then gave it to the merman. “Put that on like a skirt.”

Hux turned around to give him some privacy, which was ridiculous because he had been exposed to that naked dick the entire time and he was actually putting something _on_ right now. After a while, he had to look because it's impossible that anyone could take that long putting anything on.

  
In the 2 or 3 minutes that he had been waiting for him to dress, fishguy had only managed to secure two buttons and rip off another. Hux was an idiot. Of course, this miserable creature didn't know how to button anything.

“Why do I always have to do everything myself?” he sighed, exasperated, shooing those big, clumsy hands away from the unfortunately patterned shirt that Phasma will never wear again. Crouching to actually see what the hell he was doing, he tried very, _very_ hard to ignore the cock right before him. The distinct smell of fish, however, helped with not getting overly excited about any of this. When he was done, he stood up again.

“There,” he announced and they both looked at his handiwork. It looked terrible. And thanks to Mr I -don't-know-how-to-button-shite, there was a huge gap everyone could look at and certain bodyparts could peak out from. “Okay, take my hat and keep it right there.”

  
He's never going to wear that hat again.

If he had thought that his way to the beach had been uncomfortable and embarrassing, he certainty hadn't been prepared for the way back. Now, he was shirtless, his skin was still pink and peeling, he was wearing sunglasses for no other reason than to not be recognised – hopefully – if he was unlucky enough to cross paths with someone he knew. Which was unlikely, but still.

And now, he had a shadow. A huge, muscled shadow wearing a Hawaii shirt like a skirt and hiding his massive penis behind a sun hat in the most indiscreet way possible.

The stares were comical and Hux would have found it amusing if this had been happening to anyone else but him. As it was, he wished, he was dead.

The receptionist in the hotel looked like he wasn't sure whether he should ask what this was all about or keep his mouth shut. Wisely, he chose the latter and Hux fell into bed with a groan once they were in his room.

Fishguy just stood there, clearly out of his depth.

“You can let go of the hat, I've already seen your dong.”

There was a huff that sounded almost amused and from the soft rustling of fabric, he surmised that he was also taking off the abused shirt. Forcing himself to stand up, he made his way to his suitcase to look for some clean underwear big enough to fit him.  
“Here, put that on,” he said and pretty much threw it at him. Then he went back to bed, assuming his guest would make himself comfortable on his couch. When the mattress dipped beside him, he shot up straight away.

“No! No, no, no – You are not- You will take the couch!”

The merman stared at him.

Right. There were no couches on the beach.

“You see the big, comfortable-looking thing there? The blue one? Yeah, that's a couch. And you're going to sleep there. Cause this is _my_ bed. So, if you wanna stay, you'll stay _there_. And don't you dare pout!”

He _was_ pouting. But he was also getting up again.  
  
“You can take one of the blankets if you want,” he offered, hoping that it would placate the man enough to stop sulking like a child. No such luck. But at least, he did go to the couch, covering himself with a blanket and then lying perfectly still.

Good.

Hux closed his eyes, laying on his side, exhaustion seeping into his very bones.

Hallucinating or not, he was clearly insane either way.


	3. Everyday is friday, so your calender, irrelevant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phasma gets the wrong idea and Hux is usually better at deals than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, this chapter turned out to be quite short, but eh. Here it is. The next one is going to be longer, pinky promise!

When Hux slowly woke from a surprisingly restful sleep, he almost felt good.

Almost.

Because the second he was conscious enough to be aware of his surroundings, he immediately went into panic mode: There was a merman in his hotel room. And that was Phasma's voice at the door.

“...must have mixed up the room numbers. I'm very sorry for the-”

Hux sat up in his bed with lashes sticky from sleep, sand in his tousled hair, his skin remaining a pink, peeling mess and – what he didn't realise at that moment – looking very naked. He knew that he was still wearing the bathing trunks from the night before underneath the blanket pooling in his lap. Phasma didn't, however.

She stared at him.

And then her gaze fell back to who was standing in front of her at the door; a tall, young stranger, only clad in Hux's underwear that was slightly too small on his broad, strong body and therefore _very_ tight. Absent-mindedly, Hux noticed that his hair was finally dry. It was a black mess, slightly curly, but mostly just voluminous and lush-looking despite the sand stuck in it with a few strands awkwardly bent from it drying smothered between his head and a pillow. When he followed Phasma's gaze and saw Hux in bed, the corners of his full lips lifted just the tiniest bit.

He was unfairly gorgeous.

“Armitage Brendol Hux,” she started, her face slowly recovering from the frozen state it had been in while coming to a very false conclusion. “You _dog_.”

“I can assure you; this is not what it looks like.”  
It sounded weak, even to his own ears. Phasma ignored it.

“Here I was, about to offer you to head home early because you were so miserable being stuck in this room looking like a starved, fucked up Patrick Star, (“Hey!”) and then I find _this_?” Pointing at fishguy, her face did something, he had never seen before and never _**ever**_ wanted to see again: She was wiggling her pale eyebrows, grinning in a way he hadn't even known she could do. He drew his knees to his chest, groaning as he let his forehead rest against them. “How the _hell_ did you land _this_?” She pointed at fishguy. “With you looking like _that_ , to top it off?” Hux's head jerked back up.

  
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, unable to keep the offence out of his voice at her insinuation. “I'll have you know that I'm a very attractive man!”

Or, well, not ugly. Hopefully. He was tall, fit and his face didn't have any blatant defect that he knew of. That must count for something, right?

“You certainly look _hot_ ,” is what that devil of a woman opted to say, unashamedly proud of what was probably supposed to be a pun, aimed at the cooked-lobster thing he had going on.

“Haha, very funny,” Hux dead-panned, trying to hide his embarrassment and sudden urge to drown himself on purpose. “Joking doesn't suit you.”

That's when the situation got even worse.

“Oh no, how impolite of me,” she piped up, throwing fishguy – who had just been standing there the entire time, still pretty much naked and looking vaguely amused – an apologetic smile. “I'm Brienne Phasma, Hux's favourite (“Ex-favourite!”) colleague.”

She offered him her hand. Fishguy stared at her. Then looked at her hand. And then said nothing.

Fuck. He didn't know what a handshake was. And he couldn't say his name, either.

  
“You don't want to touch his hand,” Hux blurted out, a little more panicky than he had wanted to, but he was glad when her attention went back to him. “It was in... places.”

Understanding dawned on her face and, finally, she was the one looking both embarrassed and horrified. Also disgusted. Hux couldn't blame her.

“Sorry!” she said, withdrawing her hand quickly. Sadly, she recovered pretty quick. “So, what's your name?”  
  
“His name is-”

Fishguy looked at Hux and he felt that pressure inside his head, trying to tell him something. He recognized that particular feeling and this time, he didn't try to overthink or dissect it, so he went with the first thing that came to mind:

“...Ren.”

Two pairs of eyebrows went up at that. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. What kind of shit name was that? Clearly, Hux got it wrong if the very amused look on that distractingly handsome face was any indication at all. And Phasma wasn't buying it.

“ _Ren_ ,” she parroted, looking at Hux like a mother that was disappointed that her son hadn't done his homework. “Are you completely incapable of remembering the names of the guys you hook up with?”

He could feel his face getting even redder underneath his sunburnt skin, especially when he saw fishguy's look at that particular information.

“I do know his name!” he insisted because fuck it, he won't back-paddle now. “And it's Ren, thank you very much.”

  
  
“That's not an existing first name, Hux.”

  
“Yeah, well, that's because it's his surname.”

  
“You call your One-Night-Stands by their surname?”

“No, of course, I don't!”  
  


“Then what's his first name.”  
  


It was too early for shit like this. It really, really was. Slightly frantic, he stared at one very amused fishguy, who was as useless as ever and then let his gaze rest on the headphones Phasma had borrowed from him a few days ago and were now hanging around her neck. They were one of the cheaper ones that he owned and took with him as a spare. He vaguely remembered the company's name.

“Kylo.”

Phasma blinked. Then she turned to fishguy.

“Your name is _Kylo Ren_?” It was clear that she didn't believe a word he was saying, but to Hux's utter relief, fishguy simply nodded and threw a semi-smile at her that looked both sheepish and reassuring. “That's... unfortunate for you.” He shrugged.

Hux thought it very rude. Even though that wasn't the guy's actual name and he was therefore unlikely to take any offence at her patronising reaction to it, there was something about people making fun of other people's names that just irked him. There was a reason why he only ever told people that his name was Hux and ignored any inquiries regarding his first name.

“Says someone who's surname is _Phasma_.”

He hadn't meant to say it. But then he did and now it was out there, and Phasma's mouth tightened.

“Careful, _Armitage_.”

Ouch.

  
  
Losing patience and fighting the beginnings of a headache, he finally just asked: “Was there a reason for your entirely unwelcome visit?”

“As I said earlier,” she started, still looking a bit miffed but mostly like she had already gotten over what just happened. “I just wanted to tell you that, if you want, you can go back home. The deal is in the bag, they agreed to most of our terms, except that I had to relent on the quantity discount. They said 20% was too much, but I managed to talk them into 17%. Which was probably your goal all along, wasn't it?” It was. “So. You can go home if you want to.”  
  
Now, he felt really bad. Also proud. But mostly bad.

“Thank you, Phasma,” he sighed, with as much sincerity as a man, who had to rely on fabricated personas and superb skills at manipulation, could muster. “I knew, I could count on you.” Her face softened and the steel of her blue eyes warmed up a bit.

“I'll buy your return ticket, then.”  
  
Hux opened his mouth to thank her again when his senses were filled with _distress_ , _anger_ and the terrible feeling of being _abandoned_ -

Both he and Phasma looked at 'Kylo' when they heard the deep rumble of something like a growl coming from him. It stopped as suddenly as it came but the look on his face was still sour and his lips were pouty as he crossed his arms in front of his naked chest. What a fucking child.

Yet, Hux hesitated to confirm that, yes, he very badly wanted to go home. Phasma noticed.

“Unless you want to stay until Friday like originally planned.”

Hux couldn't believe that he was considering that.

“Can I tell you later?” is what he settled on and she nodded, eyes darting between him and Kylo, looking a bit worried. “Thank you, Phasma.”

  
  
“I'll leave you two to it.”

  
  
“See you later.”

  
  
She finally left.

Fishguy closed the door and then approached the bed slowly, almost shyly, before sitting down next to Hux's legs, his body turned towards him. Dark eyes were staring at his face, his features soft and hopeful, black, messy hair turning out to be really, really distracting. Hux couldn't remember the last time anyone had looked at him like that. Never, probably.

Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for the following conversation.

  
“I need to get back home,” he told him with as much kindness as he found in himself to muster – which wasn't much but he was _trying_. As predicted, the merman's face fell before morphing into a petulant scowl. “I'm not from here, okay? I have a life. And it's not in San Diego. Or even this continent.”  
  


_If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have one at all_

That... was true. Fuck.

“...Can I call you Kylo?” he asked when he decided that there was no way to refuse him without being ungrateful. “If I have to spend another couple of days with you, I would prefer to call you something other than fishguy.”

He almost regretted his decision when he saw the smug look on that fucker's face.

_The other one_

“Ren?” He nodded. “Alright. Ren. You don't want me to stay for my good looks and charm, I'm sure. So what do you want from me?”

Kylo looked surprised at that, his eyebrows shooting up and then lowering back to a little scowl.

_You're cleverer than I thought_

Ignoring the implication that Ren had thought of him as stupid before, he simply continued to look at him, waiting for an actual answer. No one wanted anything without a reason. Hux was a businessman, he knew that everything in life was a form of transaction. People were predictable like that. Merpeople, too, it seemed. Ren huffed, leaning back a bit, his weight caught by one of his absurdly long and strong arms as he placed his hand somewhere behind his hip, almost touching Hux's foot through the layer of his blanket.

_I want to stay up here, but I need instructions_

“What? You want to stay on land?” Ren nodded. “Is it so bad where you come from?”

_No_

Okay, so he didn't want to talk about it. Hux was getting a bit nervous, though. It seemed that this poor fool was under the impression that he could help him blend in with humans. If he only knew that Hux hardly knew how to be a person himself. The last man, he had tried to date, had told him that he was only an empty suit with a calculator instead of a brain and a cash till instead of a heart. For all that talk about how money wasn't important, it had taken suspiciously little persuasion for him to take all his expensive presents with him, though. Not that Hux had wanted any of them back, but he had enjoyed proving to himself that no one was immune when it came to money. Not even some prick breaking up with him for working too much and holding his hand too little.

“Okay, so how exactly can I help you? If you need money, you can rest assured that I am very willing to compensate you financially for my rescue. You only need to tell me a number, as long as it's not too outlandish.”

_I don't need money_

“Then what do you need from me?”

_I don't know anything about landpeople_

Bloody hell, he knew it. Groaning, Hux fell back against his pillow, closing his eyes for a second. Why couldn't he have just asked for some money? Hux knew money. He didn't know people. Not in the way Ren wanted him to, at least. Somehow, he doubted that a merman would be after knowing how to manipulate people into signing stuff and how to make your employees tremble before you.

“You picked the worst person for that job,” he told him plainly, keeping his eyes closed. “People hate me. And I hate people. If you take people-classes with me, you'll end up being even more of a prick than you already are. Not even your handsome face will be able to save you then.”

_You like my face?_

Shit.

Hux opened his eyes to find Ren grinning down at him, looking like the cat that got the cream.

“It's not that _I_ like it, per se,” he scowled, hoping that his cheeks didn't look any redder than the rest of his body. “You're handsome. It's not an opinion. Just a fact.”

That wasn't entirely true since Ren's attractiveness was pretty unconventional and therefore clearly more a matter of opinion than fact. Even Hux had to get used to his features first before starting to see the appeal. And now that he had seen it, he couldn't _unsee_ it. Ren didn't need to know that, though.

_So, I'm an attractive human_

“Well, you're certainly the most attractive fish I've ever seen.”

At that, Ren made a weird sound – Something between a rumble and a hiccup.

“Please, don't tell me _that's_ your laugh.”

_..._

“This is going to be harder than I thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, there is actually a website named "Cylo" that sells electronics like headphones and shit!


	4. "Will I sh-sh-sh-sh-shiver again?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hux buys Kylo some new clothes and has a scary realisation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while but here I am with a new chapter! I got a little insecure what with the lack of resonance with chapter 3 and I also started another project (More about that in the end notes!), so this took me a while to finish. I like this AU, though, and I have ideas for at least 6 more chapters, so I will try to pull through. Have fun!

“No, you can't come with me,” Hux repeated for the nth time, trying not to get irritated because Kylo decided to act like a 6-Year-old. _It's not his fault_ , he reminded himself, _he's not human, of course, he doesn't understand_.

It didn't make it any less frustrating, though.

 _But I see people walk around like this all the time_ , is what the poor soul projected, arms crossed and glaring from the other side of the room. It wouldn't surprise him if he started stomping. As it was, Hux tried to hold onto whatever was left of his sanity, biting back any cutting remarks. Kylo did save his life, after all. He should at least try to be nice.

“Yes,” he sighed, getting tired of trying to explain the simplest of concepts. “Because you only ever saw people _on the beach_. You can't go strutting around in the city in my underwear. It's indecent.”

_Why?_

Oh, here we go again.

“Because-” Deep breaths. _He saved you_. _Be nice_. “Because humans are prudes.”

Kylo's brows knitted together in confusion. Of course, he wouldn't know what that meant, either. Now, he deeply regretted not taking Phasma up on her offer of returning home early. He would have already been on his way to the airport instead of trying to explain the necessity of clothes to a merman. _That's what you get for thinking with your dick, Armitage Idiot Hux._

“It means that our society doesn't take well to people walking around starkers,” he explained, but Kylo's expression never changed. “It's an evolutionary thing, alright? Many, many years ago, our ancestors were cold and started wearing clothes to not be cold anymore.”

_I'm not cold_

Goddamnit.

“Doesn't matter! We wear clothes! It's just how it is!”  
No thought was projected this time, instead, Hux saw himself from a different pair of eyes – shirtless, sunburnt, wearing sunglasses. It was an image from when they took the tube back to the hotel.

“I didn't have a choice then, it was much more prudent to cover up your gigantic cock!” he snapped, both from the embarrassment of being reminded of how undignified he had looked that night and his ever-growing frustration.

Kylo smirked.

Of course, he didn't understand something as simple as clothes but had no problem grasping the concept of _the bigger the dick, the better_. He was like a teenager.

“Either,” he started with as much authority and finality in his voice as he could muster. “you let me buy you some clothes, or I will fly back to London and let you figure all of this out by yourself. Have fun being put in a jail cell for accidentally slapping a 10-Year-old with your cock.”

Kylo finally relented.

Like an overgrown baby, he did end up stomping on his way to the couch before sitting down aggressively.

Hux hadn't even known that was a thing.

“Oh, and please, do shower,” he said and he couldn't help scrunching up his nose a bit. “You reek of fish. It's disgusting.”

Now, he was really offended. Hux didn't give a damn. If he was to spent the next few days with him, he would prefer to do so without having to endure that wretched smell. Luckily, Kylo actually did stand up to follow him to the bathroom, taking Hux's threat seriously.

“You can touch water, right?” Kylo stared at him as if Hux was an imbecile. Right. This wasn't _H_ _2_ _0_. “Nevermind.”  
Explaining how a shower worked went infinitely better than explaining why he had to cover up his muscly bum in public. He even seemed kinda excited when he sniffed at Hux's shampoo.  
“Only use three drops,” he instructed, already fearing for his beloved and very costly toiletries. “It will make bubbles when you rub it in your hair and spread nicely. It's very expensive and I will haul you back into the ocean if you waste it. Same goes for the conditioner. And the body gel.”

He hoped Kylo could remember which product was what, considering that he couldn't read the label to check if he forgot. A tiny, horny part of his brain supplied him with the idea of giving him a hand. Surely, if Kylo thought being nude was totally acceptable, he might also think to let another man wash his private parts was _helping each other out_ , instead of something very intimate.

Hux abandoned the thought immediately – He was an arsehole, alright, but even someone as morally crooked as him wouldn't dare to do that to another person. Not even when that person was half-fish.

And stripping right in front of him.

“Right,” Hux announced, feeling extremely awkward and aroused at the same time when his gaze flickered down to those perfectly shaped globes. There was a beauty mark on his left arse cheek. Bloody hell. “I'll leave you to it.”

Without even waiting for an answer, he left the room. He had already showered and dressed while Kylo had inhaled their entire breakfast earlier that morning. Hux had been left with nothing but a boiled egg when he emerged from the bathroom.

Wanker.

Making his way to the lobby, he saw Phasma leaving the breakfast room. She immediately fell into step beside him, staring at him expectantly. Despite knowing exactly what she wanted to hear, he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't any of her business who he fucked and he was still a bit miffed about her implication that Kylo was out of his league.

Which he kinda was. But still.

When Hux didn't say anything, she finally broke the silence herself: “So, _Kylo_.”

“Hm.”

“Is he... a professional?”

“What?” he asked, not quite understanding until he saw how she looked at him. His face immediately heated up in embarrassment and anger. “No! Of course not! Am I that repulsing that I need to _order_ someone like a bloody pizza?”

At least, Phasma had the decency to look apologetic.

“I'm sorry. It's just... strange. Not because of your looks – You are an attractive man if not exactly charming. Just. I gave you those aloe vera bottles you wanted at 9 pm and you were alone and whining about your sunburn. (“I wasn't _whining_.”) It's very uncharacteristic of you to leave your room that late and even more so while looking like that, let alone get laid. So, how did you even meet?”

Yeah, he got where she was coming from. It still stung that she thought he would ever stoop so low as to hire a hooker, but... He got it. Especially, considering that the Huxes weren't exactly strangers to that business.

He refused to think about that.

“Well,” he started and then stopped because he wasn't sure what to tell her. The truth would make him sound like a lunatic and even if she were likely to believe him, he wouldn't want to disclose Kylo's secret to anyone without his consent. It didn't matter how much he trusted that person to not take advantage of it. Besides, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed being the only one to know. There was a certain power to it, though, he didn't plan on using it for anything. Even so, Hux had always enjoyed having knowledge that no one else was privy to.

Hux decided to go for the story that he had told himself at the beginning.

“Well,” he repeated with a lot more confidence, the word rolling off his tongue crisply. “We initially met the day I disappeared and called you from the other end of the Pacific Beach.”

Phasma stared at him, visibly curious because Hux had been tight-lipped about the whole incident until now.

“I didn't want to admit it in front of that wanker, Dameron, but I... I nearly drowned that day. I overestimated my stamina and when I decided that I had to turn back, I had lost sight of him and couldn't keep my head above the water when the waves hit me. I don't remember much from that point on, but the next thing I knew, was, that I was in a boat with Kylo.”

Her eyes had gone wider and wider with every word, and he was a bit touched when he saw how pale and worried she had looked when he mentioned the word _drowning_. Hux hadn't thought that she would care all that much if he died. Judging from her look, he had underestimated their affections for one another. Between him and Kylo, he was obviously the cold fish.

“He saved your life?” she asked, both in awe and like she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

Hux nodded.

That much was the truth.

“I was pretty panicky and not very nice, initially, so he left like 5 minutes after dropping me off.”

“Only you would piss off the guy saving you from drowning.”

“Yeah, well, I was in shock. Anyway. He mentioned that he liked swimming at the beach at ungodly hours, so I took off at 3 am and found him. He wasn't angry, fortunately, and I thanked him for the rescue.”

Oh, no, there was that grin again.

“I bet you did.”

“Oh, sod off, will you?”

She laughed.

“I'm really glad, he found you that day, Hux,” she said, oddly serious, her face tense as well as her shoulders. Usually, he didn't mind the intensity of her blue eyes – his own weren't exactly warm or soft, either -, but he felt a little uncomfortable at that moment. That look reminded him of Kylo. The man showering in his hotel room, using his toiletries, waiting for Hux to return.

What a strange feeling to know that someone was waiting for him.

“Yeah, well,” he mumbled, uncharacteristically self-conscious and timid. “Me too, obviously.” He coughed. “Anyway, I'm getting him some clothes. We, er, kinda ruined his last night.”

“Okay, I really didn't need to know that.”

Hux couldn't help snickering at her disgusted frown.

Phasma ended up helping him and they were wandering from shop to shop, trying to find Kylo a few outfits that weren't overly expensive (even though Hux definitely had the money for it, but he wasn't going to go full-on _pretty woman_ on the man) and wouldn't look half-bad on him. If the latter had anything to do with his own dick being completely out of control, nobody had to know.

“Tell me again why we're buying the man an entire wardrobe?” Phasma asked when he grabbed the 5th shirt that seemed just big enough to fit and small enough to fit _snugly_ , with a very nice V-neck.

“Because the most fashionable thing he owns is himself,” he said and was pretty proud about finding a way to not outright lie to his best friend. Lies by omission didn't count in his book.  
She looked at him with a mixture of disapproval and pity.

“This has nothing to do with you trying to bribe a pretty face into liking you, right?”

“What is it with you burning me all day? Hasn't the sun done enough damage? Aloe vera can only do so much.”

“Armitage, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You can't continue to just throw money at strangers. That way you only attract the most shallow prats the world has to offer and it will end like it always does: They take your gifts and fuck off, only for you to try the same shit with someone new.”

She was right and he knew it. It's what he's always done and he didn't know any other way of getting anyone to date him at all. Of course, her words didn't apply to his current situation since she had no idea that Kylo was far from being a sex partner – despite Armitage wanting to hump those long muscly legs like a teenager. Ha, she would have a field day if she knew that he was trying to help someone find their footing in the human world when he hadn't even found his own yet. And probably never would. Some people were just meant to be alone and he was one of them.

“I'm touched by your concern but Kylo lives here in San Diego and I'll be in a plane back to good ol' England in less than a week,” he reminded her and was surprised at the pang of regret and worry he felt at those words. The poor bloke was going to have a hard time living on land. Humans were pricks. “We will enjoy one another's company for a while and then we will each go our own way and never meet again. In the meantime, I can spoil him a little. I enjoy it.”

“I don't know what's sadder. That you're barely 30 and already a sugar daddy or that you're genuinely okay with that.”

Hux shrugged. He wasn't. Not really. At least not, when he actually thought about it. But people were happy when he bought them stuff and he craved those fleeting moments where he made someone smile. He didn't know how else to do it.

“I'm surprised, though. Kylo doesn't seem your type,” she remarked and made a face at the shoes he was picking. Armitage put them back.

“I don't have a type,” he disagreed and looked at another pair, wondering if it even made sense to buy him shoes when he could only guess at his shoe size. “Literally none of the men I picked up in the past look alike.”

Which was true. He already had a taste of almost every kind of man there was. Older, younger, white, black, Eastern Asian, Middle Eastern, Latino, Indian, short, tall, skinny, muscled, on the thicker side, shaved, hairy and on one very memorable occasion, he banged another ginger for fuck's sake.

He had no type.

“You fuck everything with a dick, I'll give you that,” she relented, however, he could hear the big _but_ coming. “ _But_ , the only ones that you try to keep around are usually the GQ kind of men. You know, the ones with the perfect faces and the perfect hair and the perfect silhouette for a nice suit that you so generously provide.”

“Kylo would look nice in a suit,” he protested and suddenly felt like buying him just that. Simply to make a point. No other reason.

“Okay, he ticks one of the boxes,” she admitted with a huge eye-roll as she threw a perfect pair of dark jeans shorts at him. “But still. The face? Not your type. At all. You don't like character.”

At that, he almost tripped and he sputtered: “What is that supposed to mean?”  
“It means,” she started with the Why-am-I-even-talking-to-you-voice that he hated. “that you like interchangeable Ken-dolls who are malleable enough to be groomed into whatever you want them to be. Blank slates.”

That-

That was depressingly accurate, now that he thought about it.

“You never talked to him, you don't know what he's like,” he mumbled, though the fire of his earlier protests was gone. She was right anyway. Kylo was anything but malleable so far. The man – or merman – had the temper of a particularly annoyed Hippopotamus, the cockiness of a one-time-hit-singer, the stubbornness of a mule and the tenderness of a curious kitten. Hux had never met anyone like him in his entire life.

“What's his deal anyway? - These shorts are hideous, put them back. - He didn't say a word when I was there.”

Good question.

“His voice is really weird and he's embarrassed about it.” Not a lie. “Something's wrong with his larynx. Not sure if it's temporary or not.”

She nodded in understanding, piling another pair of shorts on the heap of clothes in his arms, as she said: “Ah, that makes sense. I hope you weren't a dick about it.”

Hux pointedly avoided her gaze.

“Why do I even ask.”

When he returned to the hotel room, he froze immediately and almost let go of the shopping bags, mouth agape. Kylo was lying in his bed, naked once again, the flaccid but still enormous cock lying across his ripped stomach. Interestingly enough, it wasn't really his body that made his brain short-circuit. It was the hair. Hux had never had a thing for men with longer hair, it just seemed too messy and he could only imagine how much those tresses would be in the way during sex. But.

But.

Kylo's hair was-

“You... You used the conditioner,” he babbled like an idiot because Kylo had been watching him ever since he had entered the room and Hux had just been staring at him like a creep. He couldn't help it, though. Kylo had the most pullable, soft-looking, voluminous, lush hair he had ever seen and he wanted nothing more than to bury his fingers in there, feeling the heat of his scalp and the smoothness of those black curls.

Jon fucking Snow would be jealous.

Kylo even did the pout better.

_You told me I could use it_

“No, I- Yes. Yes, that was. Great. I mean, okay. You can use it. Whenever you want.”

 _What the hell_ was he saying?  
Even Kylo seemed to notice because he was sitting up, his cock slumping back into his lap, and he tilted his head like a confused kitten. It took Armitage all of his willpower to not throw himself on top of that impossible, beautiful muppet in his bed. He wasn't a nice man by any means but he didn't dare to do anything sexual without an invitation or at least _some_ sign from Kylo that his advances would be welcomed. Considering that he still looked like a peeling strawberry, he didn't think that his chances were particularly high anyway.

“I, er, bought you clothes,” he finally mumbled, lifting the bags as if he had to prove that he wasn't lying. “Far too many probably, but you will need them even after I'm back in London, so...”

Armitage finally walked properly into the room, putting the bags down on the living room table and listening to the bed as it creaked miserably from being freed of Kylo's weight. The pad-pad of naked feet made him even more nervous as he unpacked the clothes, starting with the underwear, so he could get that cock covered as fast as possible.  
“Here's some pants for your... you know,” he stammered and flung it somewhere in Kylo's direction. Of course, the man snatched it from the air with ease and he did put them on without protest. Rummaging through the heap of fabrics, he picked a pair of jean shorts and a simple red shirt with a nice v-neck, for Kylo to wear. “Put that stuff on, too.”

He managed the shirt well enough but once the shorts were in place, he clearly didn't know what to do with the zip and the button.

“Oh, for fuck's sake.”

Pushing at the hard, muscly shoulder that was finally _clothed_ , he made him face Hux completely and then fell to his knees in one smooth motion. It was second-nature by now but usually done in a very different kind of situation. This was a lot less fun.

“You close the zip like so,” he explained, grabbing the little piece of metal and pulled it up, over the bulge of his flaccid penis inside deliciously tight briefs. The lack of fish aroma was both a blessing and a curse right now. “And then you close the button. You just have to push this-” Hux gave the button a soft pull. “-thing through the hole right here. See? All done.”

When he looked up at Kylo, his eyes were black.

Hux shivered.

_Thank you_

Clearing his throat, he rose from his kneeling position, his knees feeling terrifyingly weak and legs wobbly.

Kylo wasn't his usual type, that much was completely true.

And yet, Hux had never felt so screwed before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new project I'm working on is called "Heart burns when I see your face" - A Kylux fic set in an Alternative Universe where the Outer Rim was never invaded by The New Republic and instead remained under the thump of Empress Leeya. Lore!Luke manages to keep Ben on the light side and Hux's father usurps the Arkanian throne, which makes Armitage a prince. To settle the war between the Regency Worlds and the Core Worlds, Ben and Armitage are betrothed by their parents. Drama, Hurt, Sexual Tension and good old-fashioned Pining ensues. The writing is also a lot more serious than in this.  
> Check it out if you're interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22213075/chapters/53035801


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